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by Sullivan, Piper


  They were the only ones in the room.

  His eyes took in her impressive form and for a brief moment, a hint of lust flashed in his sky-blue orbs. He realized just how wrong he’d been in thinking she’d be a small dragon. She was the poster child for what’s on the outside doesn’t always match what’s on the inside.

  His cock hardened at the mere thought of having the female beast beneath him, writhing and screaming his name over and over. More than anything though, he couldn’t wait to have her while they were both in dragon form. It wasn’t something normally done in this day and age, but he’d sell his soul for the chance.

  He mouthed the word ‘later’ at her and then advanced on the figure writhing in pain at Michelle’s clawed feet.

  Reaching down, he grabbed Connor by the shirt collar and hauled him to his feet like a limp rag-doll. Tears stained the usurper’s face he sobbed uncontrollably at the pain.

  “And you thought you’d be strong enough to claim my throne?” Axel mocked humorously. “You can’t even take on my mate, what made you think you could take me?” Axel extended one arm, allowing it to morph into his dragon’s form and then using his carved talons, he swept them viciously across Connor’s jugular and then dropped the man like he was garbage.

  He turned back to Michelle and smiled before collapsing to the floor on his knees. She tilted her head and studied him as he shoulders began to shake. When he looked back at her, she sucked in a breath at seeing the tears in his eyes.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he panted and held his hands out helplessly before him. Both human again, he studied the weak, bloodied flesh and cursed himself mentally. He’d failed to protect her and that was something he wouldn’t stand for ever again. Her blood now ran through his veins and he couldn’t refuse to take her as a mate any longer.

  Towering over him in her dragon form, he knew she could take care of herself and he wouldn’t have to worry about ever losing her again. Once they were formally mated, he’d always be able to find her and once they sealed the ceremony by sharing each other’s bodies, he would be in her mind as well.

  In a bright flash of light, Michelle allowed her body to return to human and rushed forward to embrace Axel. She ran her shaking hands all over his body, checking to see how much of the blood was his.

  “I’m so sorry,” he rasped and lowered his head to her shoulder, his mouth and nose nuzzled in the hollow of her neck. He inhaled her scent and didn’t catch the sob before it rolled from his chest. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  She shushed him with a few comforting words but knew deep down something had changed within him. He wasn’t the same arrogant, overbearing asshole she’d first met. She’d been able to do something no one ever thought possible and that was bring a dragon Prince to his knees.

  “Let’s go home,” she murmured and helped him to his feet. “You know Elder Coffer was behind all this, don’t you?” she added as they stepped over bits and pieces of furniture littering the floor.

  “Yes,” Axel conceded. “And I’ll make sure he pays dearly for it,” he promised, his voice low and deadly. Michelle knew the Elder was good as dead and she wondered just how he would accomplish that, but decided now was not the time to ask.

  Sensing her anxiety, Axel pulled her body tighter to his side, his arm slung over her shoulder for more support than he’d liked.

  “Don’t worry,” he consoled. “We need him for the mating ceremony and after our honeymoon, I’ll summon the other Elders and present the evidence to them. They won’t allow his behavior to continue. Once they dole out their punishment, I’ll make sure Elder Coffer never conspires against anyone else.”

  Chapter 9

  Like the ceremony he’d witnessed between Jaxen, the Earth elemental Prince, and his new-found mate Olivia, the service didn’t take long. Elder Coffer stood off to the side, a permanent frown etched into his face. Axel winked at him, a silent promise that the man’s days were numbered. The gesture had the desired effect as Coffer quickly vanished after the nuptials concluded.

  Axel and Michelle loitered long enough for everyone present to offer their congratulations and then he hurried her off to his bedroom where he thoroughly intended to ravish her until she was so hoarse she couldn’t scream his name any more.

  He carried her across the threshold and then dropped her unceremoniously on the bed, teasing a squeal of delight from her. They made short work of disrobing and crawled beneath the covers, prepared to languish affection on each other.

  “You are so beautiful,” Axel whispered as he lay atop her, her legs spread wide to accommodate him. She ran her soft heel up and down his calf muscle while her fingers were busy doing erotic things to his mouth and lips. She would dip one deft digit into the wet cavity of his mouth, giggling when he nipped at the tender flesh and then pull it out to lightly trace his lips.

  “I hated the idea of mating you,” she announced bluntly and laughed when his face contorted in shock. “No, I mean I’d heard so much about you that I was afraid our marriage would be long and loveless,” she rushed on to explain. “But now, I think I’m of a different mind.”

  “Is that so?” he asked with a smirk. “Well, My Lady, allow me to start this union off on a high note,” he drawled and then thrust his hips, entering her in one hard, fluid motion. Knowing she was a virgin, he hadn’t wanted to hurt her and figured it was like ripping a Band-Aid off. The quicker the better. When she hissed in his ear and then bit his lobe rather forcefully, he wondered if maybe he’d made a mistake.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he murmured against her temple.

  “You didn’t,” she reassured him. “I was more than prepared,” she added and then raised her hips to his in an effort to take all of him inside her. “Just fuck me,” she pleaded. “No customs, no hesitations, no worries, just make me yours,” she demanded.

  Axel smiled and pulled out before ramming back in. He was more than happy to do it her way. He pumped his hips as fast as he could without completely losing his mind and wanted to purr with pride as she met him thrust for thrust. She raised her legs, wrapping her heels together across his back and pulled him harder and faster until his eyes crossed in pure bliss.

  Michelle dug her nails into Axel’s delectable butt, pulling with every ounce of strength she possessed. It was as if she wanted to pull him completely inside of her where he belonged. Where they’d never be apart again. Goosebumps rained along her arms and legs when he pressed his lips to her throat and began nibbling. Her bodied readied itself for what was to come and a flood of heat washed through her vaginal walls.

  Axel inhaled sharply.

  “My God you’re so tight and wet,” he whispered in awe. “I can feel you milking me with every thrust.” He ended his revelation with fangs piercing the soft skin at her neck. She gasped at the pain from reopening the original wounds. But like with before, the discomfort soon disappeared, replaced by a mounting tension in her loins.

  Her womb felt like a coil, wound so tight it couldn’t hold another twist. And just when she thought she was going to die the spring snapped with such a force her hips bucked wildly beneath him. She screamed his name over and over, his hips thrusting with each time, punctuating her pleas with those of his own.

  Soon as some of the tension loosened in Michelle’s womb, a rush of heat flooded her and she knew it was Axel’s seed pouring into her.

  “Bite me,” he begged. “Hurry!”

  Only too willing to please her new mate, she raised up and scored his skin with her own set of fangs. She clenched her teeth when Axel threw his head back and roared so forcefully the walls shook. He pumped his lower body harder and harder, the spurts of fluid never ceasing to stop as she drank from him.

  She loved the thought of his life forces entering her in two separate places and wondered how long it took dragons to conceive. It was the one thing about sex she’d never really thought to study. Children were a rare commodity among their race and those lucky enough to fin
ally reach that peak never wanted to share any details.

  “Don’t worry Love,” he murmured once she’d released his neck. “We’ll have a houseful of dragon brats before you know it.”

  She shoved him back enough so that she could see into his eyes.

  “How did you know what I was thinking?” she asked.

  “We’re one now,” he explained. “Your thoughts are my now as well. I can also see through your eyes as if I were inside you, but that is something that will take a little time to perfect.” He smiled. “All I’m seeing right now is a really bedraggled man who needs a shave staring back at me.”

  She playfully slapped his chest and moaned when he moved off her. Laying on his back, he pulled her body up to his, her stomach nestled snugly into his side. She placed her cheek on his chest, just above where his heart beat and smiled in contentment.

  After such a strange turn of events, she had to admit that her trip to America had totally been worth it.

  “So,” he drawled lazily. “Where you getting that tattoo?”

  ***

  THE END

  Enjoyed this little paranormal number Dear Reader? Then perhaps you would enjoy reading the story of Wes, Leader of the Fire Elementals.

  Scroll up to the Table of Contents and look for War Bride.

  Home At Last

  May

  A glance in the rearview leaves me sure no one is following me. Not that there’s anyone to follow me anyway. Out here, under the stifling Texas sun, I realize I’ve driven nearly six hundred miles and I’m tired.

  The kind of tired that’s sinking right down deep into my bones. But that scared side of me tells me to keep running. I have to keep going. I haven’t gone far enough.

  Pushing aside the troubling thoughts, I try to settle into happier times, happier memories. Out here, on an old dirt road that reminds me of home, I’ve seen a few gates between stretches of fenced land. The gates have huge wooden frames of old logs that are a throwback the time when Texas was truly wild. Hung from each wooden frame is a name; the name of the ranch proudly on display. One creeps up on me now: Mustang Ranch.

  I slow down as I notice an odd-looking bit of paper clinging to the beam on the right side of the frame.

  Help wanted.

  It’s like every prayer I’ve ever said that’s gone unanswered has suddenly left me here, finally heard and saved.

  Before I can change my mind, I pull in before the closed gate. I sit for a moment. Am I really doing this? Am I crazy? I can’t stop. I haven’t put enough distance between me and…

  It’ll be fine.

  With a deep breath, I calm myself and I get out of my old car. It’s on its last legs after the punishing drive we’ve just endured. The sky just seems to stretch on endlessly as I open the gate before heading back to my car to pull through. On the other side, I get back out and close the gate behind me. Might as well make a good first impression, right?

  What was that old rule dad made sure I remembered? A closed gate must be closed behind oneself.

  The drive is dirt and rough, potholes claim my tires and jolt the car. Along both sides, fences trap plots of land and pastures stretch as far as the eye can see. The sparse grasses and few trees offer spotty shade to majestic-looking horses of many colors that stand in groups of two and threes.

  I drive slowly, but still, my tires kick up enough dust to announce my presence long before I ever even see the house.

  When the house comes into view, I feel my jaw drop. It’s not an old ranch house; it’s an old ranch mansion. It’s like a cross between an old plantation mansion and a castle. My heart thunders in my chest as I pull up and park my car.

  They’re looking for help, I remind myself. I know that Texas is a stand your ground state, but the sign said they’re looking for help. Besides, what self-respecting man would shoot an unarmed, obviously tired woman?

  With slow steps, I walk up the sprawling porch, loving the white swinging loveseat and the several matching white wicker chairs. This place reminds me more of home than home did in its final glory days.

  I step up to the door and gather my courage to knock. Before I can, the door swings open and I find myself under the intense brown stare of a man who’s taller than me by a foot and a half at least. He leans on the doorframe, his imposing form enough to make every drop of saliva dry up on my tongue.

  His heavy brow, shiny black hair and tanned skin all make up an incredibly handsome face. His eyes are hooded, like he trusts no one and nothing, his jaw is wide and powerful and working like he’s clenching it and deciding whether or not to shoot me.

  Maybe he should shoot me. Put me out of my misery.

  Suddenly, he smiles and it’s like the sun parting heavy gray thunderclouds. “Ma’am,” he says, tipping his hat. “May I help you?”

  At a loss for words, I turn and gesture back to the gate that’s easily several miles down the drive. “I’m May. You’re looking for help?” My voice sounds small and breathless, even to me and I see his eyes narrow a bit before someone behind him calls out something I don’t quite hear.

  “A lady inquiring about the job,” he says over his shoulder and I hear laughter. My face flames red hot and I turn to walk away, an apology quick on my lips.

  “I’m sorry for wasting your time--”

  The words die as a strong hand curls around my arm just above my elbow and stops me dead in my tracks. I turn to face the man and notice there’s not even a hint of amusement in his face.

  “Can you work hard, miss?” he asks, all seriousness that send my heart fluttering like a scrap of paper caught in the wind.

  “I can,” I say, wondering why I can hardly draw a deep breath.

  He looks me up and down, his hand falling away from me like he realized he’d been touching me for much longer than is proper. “You’re not suitable for a ranch hand, but I might have something else for you,” he says slowly, his eyes wandering across my face like he’s committing my features to memory – or like he recognizes me.

  Clint

  May isn’t what I’m looking for as far as help is concerned. I need men. Strong, hardworking, rough men willing to take on backbreaking labor, punishing hours, and fair pay. But May, she’s so pale and fragile looking I’m not sure she could handle the simplest task I’ve got here.

  Still, something in her eyes begs me to let her stay. And she looks so tired I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let her go right now. There’s a strength to her, a quiet power that leads me to believe she’s stronger than I’m giving her credit for.

  Her big blue eyes are as pale as the skies behind her, and there’s a light sprinkle of freckles across her nose. She’s so innocent looking I find myself needing to know how old she is.

  “How old are you?”

  She seems relieved, and I wonder what she expected me to say. “Twenty-four,” she says, her blue eyes solemn on me. Of age. I want to let out a breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding. As she brings her hands forward to clasp before the hips of her jeans, I debate. What could I have her do?

  When she draws a deep breath, I notice the gentle thrust of her breasts under the thin material of her black shirt. I’m careful not to actually look, though, and keep my eyes locked on hers. Still, she’s a beautiful girl, and it’s hard to keep my attention off her charms.

  “Come in,” I say, suddenly remembering my manners. “My name’s Clint. Clint Quentin.” I can find something for her. Even now, a plan, partially formed, nags at the back of my mind. As I step back and allow her in, I hear the guys stand up and begin moving.

  We’ve got some horses we’ve got to get moving from beyond the pasture they’d escaped. It’ll take all night to ride out there and drive them back home, and I realize that May might help alleviate one problem I’ve got.

  “Have you ever taken care of kids?” I ask as she moves through the house to the dining room where men are filing out toward the front door. Shane lowers his shoulder as he comes to pass me and I engage my core,
ready and braced for impact. He doesn’t disappoint and the clash of our shoulders would have been enough to knock a smaller man to the ground.

  After what he did, he should be glad it’s not my fist across his jaw again.

  “I haven’t, but I imagine it’s common sense.” May is solemn as I guide her into the emptying dining room. Carson meets my gaze and looks away, an unsure glint in his blue eyes. His harshly tanned Texas skin is rough from a layer of grit and sun.

  He takes his hat in his hands and May studies him as he nods to her with a thick air of politeness. “Sorry to interrupt,” he says to her, and she nods graciously as his eyes skip to me. As always, fixed with his icy stare, I’m a bit unsettled. “Should I saddle your horse, boss?”

  “Yes,” I say, and he dips his head, “Buy me ten.”

  He leaves as the last few guys file out of the room like sand whipped from the corner of a canyon by storm winds.

  “Am I keeping you?” May asks, her wide blue eyes worried.

  “Only a moment, miss,” I say, watching a bit of relief creep into her features. “I must ask you for a favor,” I say, and she nods.

  “Anything.” The way she says it, breathless and unintentionally seductive takes me aback. Clamping down with steely control, I get back on track. I can’t be thinking about how long it’s been since I had a woman in my bed.

  “My daughter, Grace, will be home from school this evening and I’ve got a long job ahead of me.” I hated to ask, but this is easier than calling on the babysitter. If only those damn mustangs hadn’t busted out. But I’d rather be there for the ride than let the guys handle it.

  But I didn’t want to call the sitter. She just eyes me with disproval every second and tries too hard to make Grace be a proper little lady.

  “How old is Grace?” May asks, and I wonder why that’s the first question.

 

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